Broken
by Swing Girl At Heart
Summary: Finn Hudson had never felt so heartbroken as when he finally knew his daughter wasn't his. His attempt to clear his head ends up taking a drastic turn for the worse. Thankfully, Mr. Schuester is there to help him. Rated T for lots of angst.


_Broken_

Finn's hands shook violently as he tried to insert the keys into the ignition of his beat-up car. His eyes burned, and he didn't even bother to wipe the tears that were streaming freely from his eyes.

Quinn had lied. All this time, she'd been lying through her teeth. And so had Puck…and so had _everyone_. Giving up and throwing the keys into the passenger seat, he beat his hands against the steering wheel, wishing it were Puck's face. He threw open the door and clambered out, slamming it shut behind him and walking as fast as he possibly could out of the parking lot, not caring what direction he was heading.

He pulled his hood over his head and hunched his shoulders, shoving his hands into his pockets as he tried to shield himself from all the pressures that were slowly crushing him. He felt as if his ribs were about to crack, but at the moment they were busy trying to expand. At the same time, his lungs were rigidly contracted, and his head was swimming.

After several minutes of blind walking, Finn remembered Kurt's counseling, to let everything out in a melody. He clenched his teeth, sucking in as much air as he could as he putting up a weak barrier against the tears. He closed his eyes, letting the breath out slowly, and began to sing quietly.

"_The broken clock is a comfort – it helps me sleep tonight. Maybe it can stop tomorrow from stealing all my time. And I am here still waiting, though I still have my doubts. I am damaged at best, like you've already figured out._" The music was choppy, cut every now and then by a hiccough, but gradually, bit by bit, Finn gained a little more composure. As he reached the chorus, his head was held a little higher, the words stronger.

"_I'm falling apart, I'm barely breathing, with a broken heart that's still bleeding. In the pain, there is healing. In your name, I find meaning. So I'm holding on. I'm holding on… I'm barely holding on to you._"

Finn's pace picked up, and he could almost see Quinn's image, hovering beside him and begging him to understand. But he wouldn't – _couldn't_.

"_The broken locks were a warning – you got inside my head. I tried my best to be guarded; I'm an open book instead. And I still see your reflection inside of my eyes, that are looking for purpose – they're still looking for life._

As he reached the song's bridge, Finn subconsciously spread his arms, leaning back; he was his own audience now. "_I'm hanging on, another day, just to see what you will throw my way. And I'm hanging on to the words you say – you said that I will, will be okay._"

The song quieted now, and Finn felt relieved. "_The broken lights on the freeway left me here alone. I may have lost my way now, having forgot my way home._" Finn could feel his heart swell as the music did, beating in time. "_I'm falling apart, I'm barely breathing, with a broken heart that's still beating. In the pain, there is healing. In your name, I find meaning. So I'm holding on, I'm holding on, I'm holding on, I'm barely holding on to you. I'm barely holding on to you._"

Finn was amazed at how much he felt better, the wind ruffling his hair. His moment of relief was short-lived, however, as a voice behind him screamed, "FINN! FINN, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!"

Snapped back into reality, Finn felt a surge of adrenaline as the wind buffeted his jacket and he realized exactly where he was. His eyes flew open and he sucked in air, reeling back on his heels, staggering backwards and nearly falling directly into the path of traffic. He was standing on a bridge. He was standing on the _railing_ of a bridge, his toes hovering over empty air and a river gushing far below. Suddenly, he could hear cars honking from behind him, and the voice was still shouting his name. His head spinning and his hands shaking, Finn climbed/fell back down onto the walkway.

"Finn! What the were you thinking?!" the voice cried, finally catching up to him. The woman to whom it belonged reached up and gripped him by the shoulders, trying to shake the dazed look from his eyes. "Talk to me. Are you okay?"

Finn frowned at her in confusion, she looked vaguely familiar, but he couldn't quite place where he'd seen her before. "What?" he said, still in shock, looking around at his unfamiliar surroundings. He didn't remember getting there.

"Finn, do you know where you are?" the woman said, regarding him with worried, caring eyes. When he failed to answer, she said, "Okay, come on. Let's get you better." She planted a hand on his back, guiding him gently to her car, which was sloppily parked on the curb, hindering traffic and causing several angry drivers to honk. Too stunned to protest or ask questions, he allowed her to steer him away from the edge and the raging water beneath it, and seat him in the passenger side, even buckling his seat belt for him. He seemed to be underwater; his ears were roaring and his movements were slow and clumsy.

When the woman appeared in the driver's seat, she rubbed his shoulder comfortingly and asked softly, "Are you all right?"

Finn's eyelids drooped in his stupor. This was far too much for him. "'m tired…" he slurred.

"Okay, just…just lean back and sleep, okay?" she said as she pulled the car back onto the road. "You can sleep for as long as you want."

Finn leaned his head against the cool glass of the window, the soothing feeling sending him into a deep sleep within seconds.

* * *

When he woke up, Finn was weighted down by a few quilts that all smelled of lavender air freshener and disinfectant. Confused, he rubbed his eyes and looked around. He was in someone's living room, kept in neurotic order with every surface shining with cleanliness. Through the window, he could see that it was dark outside, and the only light in the room was a standing lamp in the corner. Beneath the lamp, in an armchair and grading tests with a grim expression, was Mr. Schuester.

"Misser Shue?" Finn mumbled, his voice still not working properly.

Mr. Shue's eyes shot up; he promptly set his papers down and relocated to sit on the coffee table directly in front of Finn. "Are you all right?" he asked, his eyes widened with apprehension.

"Mm-hm," Finn nodded, his eyes still half-closed. This had to be a dream. He blinked slowly, sighing and sinking even further into the sofa he lay on. "Jus' tired…"

"I know you're tired, Finn, but you need to talk to me," Mr. Shue said sternly.

Finn frowned with his eyes closed. "Time is it?"

The Spanish teacher answered the partial question with, "Almost six. You've been out for about three hours now."

"Mm."

Mr. Shue shook Finn's shoulder. "Finn, wake up," he said loudly.

The exhausted boy's eyes finally slid open, blearily focusing on his teacher's face that was creased with worry. "Where'm I?" he asked.

"Miss Pillsbury's house. She had to go out for a bit, so she asked me to stay here with you," Mr. Shue said. "You're very lucky she decided to end Glee early, Finn. Otherwise, she wouldn't have found you and…" He trailed off, not wanting to say the rest.

Finn's brow knitted in confusion.

"You do remember what happened, don't you?" Mr. Shue said.

"Should I?"

Mr. Shue's eyes widened even further. "Finn, you…you almost jumped off a _bridge!_ You don't remember that?"

Finn blinked, trying to clear his memory. It came rushing back in a cascade of images and erratic sounds; he shook his head as if denying it. "Oh my God…" he breathed.

"What happened, Finn? What was going through your head?"

Finn was wide-awake now. "Mr. Shue, I swear, I have no idea how I got there. I don't know—"

"Finn, this is very serious. You could have killed yourself. Do you have _any_ idea what that could have done to the people who care about you?"

"Yeah, but I'm telling the truth. I don't remember going to the bridge, and I never wanted to kill myself!"

"Well, _some_ part of you did, Finn!" Mr. Shue said, raising his voice slightly to match his student's. "Listen, I called your mom, told her it was probably best to wait until we brought you home, so you can be coherent when you speak to her. But you do have to go home soon; I'll drive you back at eight. In the meantime, we should probably talk about getting you some help."

Finn could feel a painful lump forming in his throat. "I don't need help."

"With all due respect, Finn, your actions say otherwise. I know Quinn lied to you and I know how much it hurts right now. But that is never – _never_ – a reason to toss yourself off a bridge."

Clamping his lips together, Finn tried to hold back the tears that were threatening to spill again. "I don't want to kill myself, Mr. Shue. I promise."

Mr. Schuester sighed, running his hand through his tightly curled hair. "Well, you can talk this over with your mom when you get home." With that, he stood up. "You want some tea? Miss Pillsbury has quite a collection."

"I'm fine. You mind if I sleep a little longer?"

Mr. Shue nodded, giving Finn a comforting smile and solid pat on the shoulder before returning to his chair. Sighing, Finn allowed himself to drift into the deep slumber of a boy who had given the day his all.

* * *

**A/N:** All feedback will be appreciated. This is my first attempt ast a songfic-type story. I do not own _Broken_ by Lifehouse.


End file.
